


Bad Choices with Good Intentions

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers, season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 14:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Oswald had only ever meant to make him happy, to give him and them a proper chance.





	Bad Choices with Good Intentions

The air around them is thick, nearly unbreathable. He swallows hard, his throat is dry, and his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His hands are at his sides, palms sweating, and he so desperately wishes he could look away from the man standing before him. The barrel of the gun is trained on him, he knows the weight of the metal in Ed’s hand is a heavy one. It’s not the first time they’ve been in this position, but it may be the last. Tears burn his eyes and he swallows again, there is no rain, only still air as Ed stares down at him.

“I wa-wanted to fix you, you weren’t okay.” The words come out weakly, his voice is hushed as if he’s in a confessional or in the library.

He feels younger and timid, he feels meek and scared for the first time in years. He can still in his mind’s eye see Ed’s corpse, the blood staining his white shirt red, his face pale and gaunt. The pain of seeing yet another person he loves die, another person who died all because of his stupid mistakes. He thought it would be okay. He thought he would be okay. Strange promised to fix him, to make him okay again. To make things like how they were supposed to be.

Ed presses the barrel of the gun against his chest, pushes him back a step. Oswald takes a deep breath, his body tenses further as he feels the rough press of the gun against his person. A voice in his head is begging for Ed to just pull the trigger, to do it right this time.

“Fix me, you didn’t fix me. You broke me!”

His voice echoes in the room, Oswald flinches at his yell. At the hate and the fear that is filling Ed’s voice. There are tears in his eyes as well.

“You’re the reason I killed all those people….Those families…There were kids in those buildings Oswald.” His voice cracks. This isn’t what he wants.

This isn’t what either of them had wanted. Oswald takes another breath, he opens his mouth to speak again. He reaches out a shaky hand wanting to console him, to comfort him. 

“Ed I-I swear to you I didn’t want this. Yo-you weren’t, you weren’t well and when we found you…”

Dead. Dead for two hours. He’d been dead and gone, but Hugo Strange could bring the dead back to life, he could work on the human brain and take away the pain. 

Oswald gently touches his forearm, Ed jerks his arm away. 

“How the Hell would you know if I was okay or not?”

“Ed I know about the pills, the black outs, and that relationship you had wi-“

“So what, so you decided to bring me back? For what, just to make yourself feel better.”

More tears, he’s crying now. He closes his eyes, silently curses himself for being weak when it comes to him. “I couldn’t lose you.” He speaks honestly, his voice is weak and taut with emotion. 

Ed laughs, the sound bitter and empty. “Christ Oswald….I’m not your mom or your dad or Fish Mooney, I’m sorry that you lost them, but you have no right to do what you did.”

He knows this. He knows he’s right. The fear was suffocating though, he hadn’t even been there with Ed when he was dying. He just found him hours too late, he hadn’t thought about it. He just saw a chance, a solution and grabbed desperately at it.

There are words he wants to speak, a defense, a plea, but he’s screamed those three words so much that it hurts to even think them.

Ed’s hand is shaking as he holds the gun, the silence washes over them and its more unnerving than the yelling. 

Ed shouts and throws the gun across the room, Oswald flinches stepping back at the sudden outburst. He watches his friend, his enemy, the man he loves as he rakes his fingers through shagging dark hair. He’s scared, he’s frustrated. There’s a mob of pissed off people who will want him to hang from the gallows once they find out it was him who killed those people, they both know they’ll all find out sooner than later.

Oswald approaches him again, wraps his arms around his waist and hugs him tightly. Ed tenses, slowly relaxes and wraps an arm around his waist. He pets his fingers through his hair, rest his hand against the back of his head. He sighs heavily and Oswald relaxes against him, breathes in the scent of cheap soap and sweat and musk and every little thing that is Ed. His heart is beating, his breath his warm against the top of his head.

“We’ll figure this out. I promise.” He whispers against him.

Ed doesn’t reply, he simply holds him.


End file.
